Newsflash: it's 250 degrees outside across the Northeast. It's 323 degrees in locales skylined with buildings instead of trees. That means that those of us who are no longer freakish hairless caucasian apes require the invigorating blast of artificial popsicle air when we enter the office so we don't resemble beat-up wet dogs propped up in rolling chairs all summer.

I like the earth, the earth is fine, but this blue-sky-open-the-window bullshit you're spewing does nothing to prevent my underwear from filling up faster than the engine room of the Titanic after I take a two minute walk to the bodega. (Analogical breakthrough: If the world had more air conditioning units leaking ozone-blasting refrigerant earlier in the 20th century, that murderous iceberg would have been eliminated decades before. Oh, snap.) And if you think I would enter that bodega had it not been cold enough inside to store dead mobsters, you would be wrong. Oh, but let me walk three extra blocks to the shittier bodega whose shelves are stocked with seaweed chips and lettuce popcorn and kale turds because they've decided to spritz water in front of a desk fan. I would not be physically able to do that because after I walked an extra one half of a block I would be convulsing on the sidewalk due to heatstroke. Then nobody wins.

Florida hillbilly in hoodie.

And did you use your big-boy blog to soapbox about hydrofracking and fossil fuels? Do you know where fossil fuels come from you hippie gym rat ? Dead dinosaurs. You know what killed the dinosaurs? Heat from the sun that was not hydrofracked. (This is probably not true but I have no desire to Google hydrofracking to figure out what you're referring to because I'm so damn comfortable in my dry rolling chair enjoying this 65 degree office and a tall glass of water I did not procure from a solar still.)

But look at you, all smug, reading this article over in your rolling chair wearing a hooded sweatshirt because your hairless caucasian body is used to Florida's hillbilly heat index and and now your natural thermoregulation is all haywire.

I support your choice, even if it's partially done as some sort of symbolic inner-office protest against hydrofracking. Oh, look, I finally Googled hydrofracking and found someone else who likes to self-righteously squawk about this "issue" when they get bored:

You should ask to borrow his blanket the next time the office is too cold for you.